


Building

by Pi (Rhea)



Category: Baccano!
Genre: F/M, yuletide related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-26
Updated: 2010-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-14 03:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I obviously missed the madness deadline, but in case you'd want to read a boxing day gift... I might as well post it! Sorry for the lateness, I hope you enjoy it.</p><p>Given I'm not posting to a challenge/tag this isn't anonymous, so more in the spirit of yuletide than actual yuletide, sorry about that.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Building

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starryeyedsea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryeyedsea/gifts).



> I obviously missed the madness deadline, but in case you'd want to read a boxing day gift... I might as well post it! Sorry for the lateness, I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Given I'm not posting to a challenge/tag this isn't anonymous, so more in the spirit of yuletide than actual yuletide, sorry about that.

Ennis isn’t entirely sure what to make of her new life. Szillard lives on within Firo, just as all the others lived on in Szillard before him. But, Firo is Firo, for all the memories he has acquired. At first, Ennis spends most of her time with Chez. He is too quiet and too scared. Ennis thinks maybe she understands, better than Firo who’s been immortal for so little time. Ennis does not know if she is immortal but she knows what Szillard has done. She is made from him and for him and now she does not know what to do. Helping Chez adapt makes sense. They’re both lost in their own ways. Eventually Chez is smiling more, and talking with Firo when they prepare breakfast.

Ennis tries to find work, but there isn’t much. Firo seems to be making enough money to support them and insists that Ennis do what she likes. “Do something fun!” he says. Take Chez for a walk, go shopping, spend time with Miria and Iaasac, spar with me. Ennis doesn’t know if she thinks these things are fun. The city is still amazing to her, now that she can go wherever she likes, and not always feel Szillard, his dark thoughts in the back of her head. Shopping is new idea.

Ennis has never owned something for herself before. The first time Firo asked if she’d like new clothes Ennis didn’t understand. Firo had been shocked and proceeded to take her around to all the proper shops. Ennis tried on dresses and pants and fashionable hats. She wasn’t so fond of the hats but she, or rather Firo, bought a few new pants, some nice shirts, a suit and two dresses, one pretty and black and another in a bright summer print that reminded Ennis of a memory of a field of sunflowers she’d never visited.

Miria and Iaasac drop by often. They always confuse Ennis, but the make her smile. She often doesn’t understand their plans, but their plans are always grand. Ennis will find herself returned to the house hours or a day later laden down with a roost of chickens, 1200 roses or a priest’s pocket watch. Miria and Iaasac will wave and smile as they run off to their next destination and Firo will grin, put his hand genially on her shoulder, and ask how the adventure was this time.

It’s the sparing Ennis enjoys. Ennis was born knowing how to fight. She has memories of different skills and loves the visceral stretch of muscle and strength. Firo is worthy of that. His skill isn’t based off of inherited knowledge and his moves and style are still foreign enough to her that he keeps her on her toes. Ennis loves the days Firo comes home with that certain look in his eye. Ennis will bounce to her feet and watch closely as Firo sheds his jacket and hat.

The first time Chez started screaming because they knocked over a chair in the living room and broke it. Ennis can understand how their fight looked serious, and took an hour explaining to Chez that they weren’t really hurting each other, just fighting for the joy of it. She offered to show Chez but he declined his eyes still darting warily to her outstretched hand. He didn’t make a fuss after that. Within a year he would cheer on his “parents”. Ennis wasn’t sure what to think about that. She, a homunculus, had not borne or created Chez, and Firo had no part in the process. Chez came to them a full immortal. To be a mother and father meant a level of connection Ennis wasn’t sure she could have. But it made Chez smile, and Firo would look fond. Ennis decided that that caring was true, even if she hadn’t given birth to the strange boy.

Chez would never join their fights, Ennis was almost glad of this. The clash of Firo’s knife against her own, the agile twist of his body as he dodged the blade of her hand was something Ennis was unwilling to share with anyone else. They almost always ended at a draw, breathing heavily and soaked in sweat. Sometimes they drew blood, but mostly they measured their fights in exertion, each trying to beat the other. Firo said it kept him sharp. He never fought with anyone as skilled as Ennis. Ennis figured there were probably others in the Mafia who were more dangerous than she was, but refrained from comment.

So Ennis did the things she liked. She read to Chez, not so much because Chez wanted to listen, but because Ennis loved to read out loud and sometimes Chez reactions helped her understand the book better than she might have on her own. She took long walks through the city, often by herself, often at night. Firo knew she could take care of herself and Ennis loved to see the city in all of its different faces. She mended Firo’s clothing, bullet holes and knife tears, because it was soothing, and she found that while she had no talent for patterns, her stitching was neat and orderly. And she and Firo fought, and afterward they would sit on the floor, breathing deeply, then talking for hours. Firo would tell her about the Martillo family and about the other immortals, Maiza and Luck. He would spin her stories he’d heard from them, monsters on railroads, and fairytales from other countries. Ennis knew she wasn’t human, wasn’t normal, but neither was Firo, neither was Chez. Perhaps they were a strange family but when Firo smiled at her, when Chez called her “mother”, it made a warm feeling blossom in her chest. Yes, they were a family.


End file.
